The Things You Forget

The girl who called herself Maggie Fell didn’t normally stay back after chemistry class. She wasn’t a fool. Chemistry wasn’t her forte and the teacher hated anyone who didn’t understand anything involving the periodic table. Also, she didn’t like that feeling that came when she saw a bunch of beakers filled with obviously hazardous fluid. It seemed ironic that the materials locked up from young children were given little precaution to those society still didn’t trust to drink responsibly. 

She also didn’t also normally talk to the guy named Riley Garrison. His distant, closed off expression and tendency to keep to the shadows had never settled well with her. Some people considered him an inner poet. She quietly wanted to say poets couldn’t pay the bills. Yet sometimes when her eyes glanced over his way and she saw him considering a certain shaft of light, she understood the attraction he held. There seemed to be a certain mysterious quality to him that made an impression on your mind even if he wasn’t saying anything. 

She also wanted to say that she didn’t normally leave her purse behind or anything valuable like that. She was one of the responsible types — and she had her mom’s hard knocks in life to convince her there wasn’t any other type to be. While some girls wanted to find out just how far they could go over the edge, she was the girl teachers consistently counted on for turning in her assignments early, volunteering for the tasks no one wanted, and even helping to monitor detention a time or two.

But it was one of those days where she had to go back to the chemistry classroom and endure the faintest amount of disdain from the teacher. She had actually forgotten her purse, which was still something she couldn’t remember doing until the office had told her to pick it up in Warner’s Room after school. 

It was a puzzle she was still trying to determine as she slammed the locker full of neatly organized books and began to mentally brace herself for the trek to the place that was responsible for mild panic attacks and weekly trips to the library in attempts to figure out the riddle of stoichiometry. It wasn’t until the familiar sight of a friend’s vivid red hair popped into view that she remembered she had tasked herself with printing out copies of the history notes from the other day.

“My mind must have been elsewhere,” she was telling the friend of hers after they played catch up and exchanged the usual highs and lows involving the day. “I don’t think I’ve ever left my purse before. I still can’t…”

“Of course your mind is full,” her friend said with an easy grin. “It’s not like you don’t have a baby brother to take care of while your mom figures out what to do with that thing she calls a job.”

“I guess,” she said and quietly pulled out the copy of history notes. 

“Does she even realize that exams are coming up? Or does she think you’re slated for a fabulous career at Happy Happy Burger Paradise?” her friend asked. 

Maggie faked a laugh, but the friend caught her eyes. “Oh my gosh, I’m so kidding. You know that right? Of all the people most likely to make it out of this dump, it’s going to be you. You’re basically a genius.”

“Just of the common variety,” she said and plastered a grin she didn’t feel over her face. In the back of her mind, she ran over the few items still on the to-do list: add money from her job to her checking account, go over forms for the camp counselor position for the summer, check to see if she could work an extra shift at Happy’s this weekend. Just then, the announcement buzzed with the announcement that she was needed in Warner’s classroom. “That’s my cue. I got to go. Good luck on the history test.”

She didn’t wait for the friend to respond. It was abnormal of her to leave without saying goodbye; she detested rudeness in all its forms. Yet it wasn’t a normal kind of day and she felt so tired as it was. The sun was exceptionally bright and as she walked along the corridor, she felt the strangest sense of heat tingling on the back of her neck. 

Past the vending machine, past the water fountain, past the art decorations, she moved forward until she was at the sterile room filled with toxins and beakers and all the things she couldn’t wait to be done with. Her feet came to a sudden stop and she frowned. The room was empty. No Mr. Warner. No anyone.

“Hello?” she said, but her voice rang out into the nothingness. Reaching her hand up, she touched the back of her neck, but this time, she felt goosebumps where once there had been sweat.

Not the biggest surprise. Warner’s classroom inspired something like deep dread inside of her. She was about to consider asking the office if the purse couldn’t have been returned to the main office when Riley stepped out of the shadows of the closet. His face was smudged with charcoal and a strange brown jacket like tweed hung low down his pants. She opened her mouth to say the awkward “Hello,” when he reached out and took her wrist.

“You feel it too?” he asked.

“Feel what?” she said. 

“The sun. It’s been getting stronger. We have to get out of here. Before everything changes. Come on,” he said. 

She didn’t move. The strangest sense of tired was still pushing around her like a fog and she knew it wouldn’t be wise to go with him. Some part of her mind knew that she was the kind of girl who never took risks. But it wasn’t a normal kind of day. And so began the start of a not so normal life. 

#

“Riley. Why are we here?” she asked. 

She pushed herself up from the basement floor and looked around. Riley was standing watch at the locked door. It had been some hours since the sounds of yelling and pounding had ceased. She was thirsty and as she looked around at the underground room, she noticed that the room was stock piled with various food and beverages.

“You want the long answer?” he asked. “Or the cliff notes version?” 

“Whatever answer that keeps me from losing it,” she said. “I just heard some of my best friends voices turn into what sounded like coyotes. An hour ago, the teacher I thought hated me handed me a vial of something I know I’m not supposed to touch and told me that if I want to stay alive, I’m supposed to drink it. And neither of you have been answering any of my questions. I feel like I’ve violated some kind of safety code except not too long ago, someone was trying to get in using an axe. I didn’t even know the school had an axe.”

Riley gave her a dubious look, then returned to making sure the door was properly braced. “Are you sure you want to know? Sometimes it’s better to be kept in the dark. It’s better to not know things. That’s how most of this structure functions.”

“You’re saying school is the place people try to forget things?” she said, and felt herself flush when he gave her an amused smile.

“Of course it is,” he says. “Or maybe you like cram sessions for the simplicity of better cementing everything you’ve ever learned into your brain.” 

“I don’t do cram sessions,” she says.

“Then tell me what the symbol for iron is,” he retorted.

She flushed and suddenly, the events of the last several hours hit her. “Excuse me if I don’t remember every little detail about a class that…”

He held up his arms. “It’s okay. It’s what this place does to you. It’s just, we were hoping you would have figured things out a little quicker, given the way you’re not like the rest and all. We had hoped to avoid this situation entirely. Getting your purse took a neat amount of work as it did. I almost…”

“You took my purse?” 

“I saved your life,” Riley said, and folded his arms across his chest, a smug look of satisfaction painting his tired face with a look of pride. 

“And you’re saying chemistry has something to do with this,” she said. 

“Like I said, we’ve been trying to get through to you all year. But if poor test grades and botched labs…”

“If that’s your method of communication…”

“I didn’t want to make it obvious…”

“People are acting like hyenas and the world sounds like it’s ending. I think those situations call for a little more measure of obviousness,” she replied.

He laughed.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing. Just — being here — with you — after the kind of year I had…” he trailed off, his eyes looking away from her with a sudden gleam in them. As she looked at him in that moment, she remembered seeing him in the cafeteria one day, eyes quietly studying a shaft of light. And while she had a million things to do, she had remembered stopping, overcome with the sudden urge to find out exactly what he was thinking. 

“Look. Just…if you really want to know, meet me after chem class sometime,” he said, and grinned. 

She looked steadily back into his eyes, and thought again that he reminded her of a poet. But poets can’t pay bills. “Okay,” she said, and wasn’t entirely certain why her voice shook. And then, she was shaking her head. “Wait a minute. Meet you after chemistry class? How are we going to…”

“You sound like your losing your voice,” he replied and gave her a bottle of water. “You really should drink something. Keep up your strength. It won’t be any good for us if we come under attack and you faint from dehydration.”  

“I’m not going to…” she protested.

“Drink,” he said. 

She did, her eyes narrowing on him as he quietly returned to cataloging the underground store house of food and beverages.

“You can’t give me some clue to all this? They do say ignorance is blind.”

Riley just turned and gave her an easy grin. “You really don’t remember, do you?” he said and she blinked. The strangest sensation was overtaking her — a blanket over her senses — and next thing she knew, she was staring at her locker, the announcement that she was needed in Warner’s classroom blaring through the hallways.

“Like I said, you have way more on your plate then any kid should be expected to handle. But I really think you’re going to make it out of this place. Preferably you’ll take me with you, before this place nose dives into chaos,” a familiar voice was saying and she blinked. 

Her friend Val was holding the history notes in her hand, red hair pulled up in a bun, body leaning casually against the locker. “I’m sorry, what did you say? You were talking about history?”

“I’m talking about your amazing future. Though we’ll have to start working on your recall of the past if you can’t even remember what we were just talking about. Oh my gosh, gross. Look who’s walking by,” she said. 

“Who?” she said.

“Riley Garrison. You remember him? You guys used to play inside at recess when you were younger. Before we all realized how gross he was. He said he was allergic to the sun. Swore there was something in the water that was going to make us all burn up or change or something one day,” Val said and laughed. “Such imagination, huh? But then, my dad says Riley’s always been into testing the water and anything that might be contaminated. Knowing his luck, he’ll probably find a sweet job at a chemical plan and I’ll end up cleaning some floor.”

“Yeah,” she said, then pressed two fingers to the back of her neck, her eyes watching as Riley stepped away from the lit part of the corridor and headed off to the shadows.